


Amber Tears

by tal_5



Series: Circus AU [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Angst, Angst and Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Romance, Inspired by The Greatest Showman (2017), M/M, Pining, Romance, Sad Ending, Trapeze, heights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 14:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16788685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tal_5/pseuds/tal_5
Summary: “Is it fun?” He asks, eventually, causing Virgil’s eyes to open and look at him curiously.“Is what fun?”Patton’s answer arrives more bluntly than he would have liked it to. “Trapeze.”It takes a little while for Virgil to respond, but that’s okay. Patton knows that conversation isn’t one of Virgil’s strengths. “I guess. You want to try?”And really, what does Patton have to lose at this point?





	Amber Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing(s): Implied Logicality and platonic Moxiety
> 
> Warnings: Pining, but like, it’s really sad (sorry y'all)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this story unless clearly stated. These characters belong to Thomas Sanders.

An hour or so after the show is over, the entire circus tent is subdued, and Patton finally allows the tension in his shoulders to dissipate.

His eyes close as he completely relaxes against one of the larger sandbags used to propel Virgil and Remy into the air. Eyelids heavy, he ignores his desperate need for sleep and stares up at the roof. _Red_. _White_. _Red_. _White_. Counting the coloured stripes of the tent certainly doesn’t help cease the exhaustion in his limbs, but what else can he do? He’s alone.

Red.

White.

Without any warning, his mind conjures up a new colour. Honey slowly melting in direct sunlight; tree sap peeking through the bark of a pine tree; something else that Patton can’t even describe. These images should bring him a joyous grin, but instead, he’s left with the hollow sensation of butterflies clawing at his stomach. ‘ _Let us out_ ,’ they cry. And yet, he cannot.

Like the core of a rotting apple, the colour in his mind twists until Patton has to focus on breathing, lest he forget how. In and out. _In and out_.

He should distract himself, but who would still be here after the show? Roman likes to immediately rush off and work out, to keep his strength up, perhaps. Remy hurries away to have a nap, Nate usually following behind, Dorian isn’t too talkative even at the best of times, Thomas must start planning their next show with Terrence’s help, Joan and Talyn usually go out to eat, Virgil dislikes socialising too much with anyone, and Logan doesn’t care enough to stay. A pang in his heart drives Patton forward towards the ring, where he expects there to be no-one, only to find a familiar figure hanging upside down from the trapeze.

Softly, he smiles. Virgil is close enough to the ground that he could easily enough just drop and sit down, but, of course, the man just has to take it up a notch. Quite literally. He carefully makes his way over to his companion, keeping his steps light but noticeable.

“Hey Pat.”

“Hi Virge.” Patton smiles wider, sitting on the ground a few feet in front of Virgil’s face. “What’re you still doing here? I thought you’d want to go back to bed, asap.”

Virgil smirks lightly, glancing over at Patton and raising an eyebrow, though it looks a little bit like his eyebrow has suddenly dropped since he’s upside down, making Patton stifle a giggle behind his hand. “You trying to get rid of me?”

Rolling his eyes, the contortionist shakes his head and tilts it to the side. It feels heavy. He’s just _really_ tired but sleeping would mean he’s vulnerable. “Of course not. You’re very welcome here! You know that.”

A loose shrug jostles Virgil’s thin frame and Patton can no longer sense the humour in his smile.

They’re both silent for a little while. Patton lying down to continue counting the stripes on their circus tent, and Virgil hanging from the ceiling, seemingly relaxed as his eyes close gently. It’s nice, sometimes, to just sit and be silent with another person. Acknowledging each other’s presence for a couple of seconds before allowing the conversation to dissolve into a comfortable nothing.

Usually, Patton enjoys conversation, the desire to know more, to hear the crackle of passion in someone’s voice when they speak about something they love, to feel the warmth of another person’s validation and self-praise. But in moments like this, he prefers just sitting. Thinking. Not too much though. Too much thinking is most certainly a dangerous pastime. Especially when his brain won’t let him forget that _damned_ colour.

“Is it fun?” He asks, eventually, causing Virgil’s eyes to open and look at him curiously.

“Is what fun?”

Patton’s answer arrives more bluntly than he would have liked it to. “Trapeze.”

It takes a little while for Virgil to respond, but that’s okay. Patton knows that conversation isn’t one of Virgil’s strengths. “I guess. You want to try?”

Eyes snapping open, he imagines icy fingers combing through his hair, whispers of liberation brushing the shell of his ears, his mind finally storing his amber tears away for another time. He imagines himself _forgetting_. Even if it’s only for a moment.

“Yes.”

* * *

Virgil secures him, only allowing him to go so far up into the air. Sure, he’s technically qualified to teach Patton how trapeze is done, but he definitely isn’t emotionally qualified to do so. What if something goes wrong? Will he fall? Falling isn’t a fun experience.

Once they're quite a few feet off the ground, Virgil ensures that Patton is securely attached to a harness before smiling, bouncing slightly on his feet to release all the nervous energy building up in his muscles. He moves to stand to the side and just behind his friend, surprised to see glassy blue eyes staring down at the dusty ground below them. “Patton?”

“I’m ready.”

Why does this feel so solemn? Instead of asking too many questions, Virgil narrows his eyes suspiciously and grips the contortionist’s shoulders. “What you’re going to do, is you’re going to jump. But like,” his voice speeds up a little, reminding Patton of a frantic mouse scurrying to safety, “do it carefully? If that makes any sense at all? Probably not. But just- “

He cuts himself off quickly, realising that rambling isn’t going to do either of them any good, and simply stands there with his grip on Patton’s biceps gradually tightening. “Be careful.”

Patton smiles fondly at him. “You do this all the time _without_ the harness. I’ll be okay.”

And Virgil wants to tell him that it’s taken him so much longer to get to this point than Patton would ever guess, but before he can even open his mouth, his companion is throwing himself off the platform.

Unexpectedly, though it probably should have been expected from such an excitable man, Patton lets out a loud ‘ _whoop’_ as he glides to the other side of the tent. And though he can’t hear it, his enthusiasm earns him a surprised huff of laughter from the trapeze artist still standing on the platform at the other side of the tent.

The release is so intense, so _magnificent_ , that Patton almost sobs mid-air.

Everything he imagined is happening. Hands brushing his air back (perhaps a little messily), a gentle voice assuring him that he can let go, he can let go of those amber eyes haunting his every thought. And like that, they’re gone. _He’s free_.

After another minute or two of swinging through the air, he’s lowered to the ground where Virgil unhooks him from the harness. Immediately, he sweeps his friend up in a hug and thanks him profusely. The embrace isn’t returned, but he can feel Virgil’s body slowly unwind in his arms, letting him know that he hasn’t overstepped any boundaries.

“Have fun?” Virgil asks with a smirk, though he already knows the answer.

Patton beams at his friend as soon as he lets go of him. “Yes! Thank you so much, Virge! I really do appreciate this.”

The two of them talk a bit more about their separate functions in the circus, about their likes and dislikes, and for the first time in quite a while, the clock in Patton’s mind speeds up and suddenly, it’s time to leave. They both pack whatever possessions they have and exit the tent, making their way over to their rickety trailers. Before they can even get halfway across the small area of grass, the door of the left trailer opens and the clock in Patton’s mind ticks one last time before screeching to an abrupt halt. “What are you two still doing out here?”

Virgil rolls his eyes and huffs out a sigh, though Patton can hear the amusement and lightheartedness behind his tone. “Having _fun_ , Lo. Or haven’t you heard of it?”

“No need to be rude, Virgil.”

As the two of them slip in the metal trailer door, waving goodbye, Patton hurries over to his trailer and thanks every deity that it’s empty. Remy and Roman must be out somewhere together, though Remy has never been known to exercise or have a good mental compass. But Patton isn’t really thinking too much about that right now.

Amber tears return and the rush of liberation fades.

He’ll never be allowed to forget what he can’t have.


End file.
